Stories of paranoia and danger inspired by our relationship with the virtual world are as old as the technologies that have made this alternate, globalized digital existence possible. Yet as technology rapidly advances and the internet becomes our daily bread, such stories often feel dated—if not outright absurd. Even so, the exceptional filmmaker and storyteller Kiyoshi Kurosawa has consistently demonstrated a keen awareness of how digital and virtual identity permeate our lives. He explores their influence as a catalyst for nightmares, monsters, and horrors that could only exist in the 21st century. If Pulse (2001) remains the definitive horror film of the internet era—still terrifying and technically impressive—Kurosawa’s latest, Cloud, proves that entire worlds remain worthy of fear simply because of how easily we make ourselves available to them, just a screen away.

Yoshii (Masaki Suda) leads a double professional life that he has, until now, successfully balanced. By day, he works at a clothing factory; by night, he moonlights as an online reseller of goods—therapy machines, handbags, anime figurines—acquired ruthlessly and sold at inflated prices. His methods may be questionable, but they aren’t illegal. He takes risks: buying underpriced items online, negotiating with small shop owners to purchase their entire stock of a sought-after item. In one of the film’s funniest moments, a line of anime fans awaiting a new doll release is met with the announcement that it sold out before the store even opened—because of Yoshii.

His tactics yield profit, but also growing hostility. He quits his day job without notice, refuses to invest in his best friend’s venture, and neglects his girlfriend. One by one, his decisions accumulate into a mounting set of consequences that threaten to unravel him—before he even realizes how, when, or why. Online, he’s known by the alias “Ratel,” a prominent figure among online resellers. His notoriety has spawned entire forums (reminiscent of Reddit) where users curse him, speculate about his real identity, and fantasize about revenge. Some feel cheated. Others are jealous competitors. That so many people thirst for retribution seems wildly disproportionate to his supposed offenses—but that imbalance is part of Kurosawa’s point. Cloud is a chilling look at how the digital world warps scale, logic, and morality.

At first, it seems implausible that something terrible and extreme could befall such a cold, self-serving protagonist whose biggest thrill is watching overpriced listings vanish in seconds. Small invasions of Yoshii’s privacy by rivals or frustrated clients begin to hint at discomforting situations, which coincide with the moment Yoshii hires Sano (Okudaira Daiken) as his new assistant, who has secrets of his own. Is Sano friend or foe? That question grows urgent as Yoshii finds himself completely isolated, just when he most needs an ally. Kurosawa is a patient storyteller, and he trusts his viewers to wait just as patiently to be rewarded with the slow-burning tension of a psychological thriller that doesn’t sacrifice its ethical concerns. If an existentialist action film is even possible, Cloud would be a prime example.

Kurosawa saves the knockout punch for the final act: a gripping shootout between enemies and former allies, a descent into violence that continues to the bitter end. This is not an easy film to summarize or recommend without oversimplifying what makes it powerful. Suffice it to say, Kurosawa’s sharp insight into our complicated relationship with technology—and his critique of the capitalist machinery that fuels and feeds it—never clashes with his instincts for suspense and action. When he lets loose, the results are both chilling and cinematic.